


Bruises

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Communication Failure, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Robb leaves a bruise on Theon during training, and tries to make it up to him. Not that he knows it, he only makes it worse.





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on tumblr, who asked for (slightly paraphrased) Jon/Robb or Robb/Theon, porn & despair. Plus I got some help from the kink generator, which gave me "bruises or other wounds + power imbalance."

Theon hisses as he presses his fingers against the dark purple bruise, and Robb, halfway through taking off his shirt, stops and frowns at him. “Are you alright?”

He tests the wound just a little too longing, idly wondering just how much pain he can draw out of it, before he looks up and gives Robb his usual winning grin. “Of course I am, Stark,” he insists, lying back on the bed like he’s totally relaxed. “What, you think I can’t take a few bruises?”

Robb doesn’t look all that reassured, still frowning as he slowly slinks further toward Theon. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, and Theon rolls his eyes.

“Well they’re never going to make a warrior out of you like that,” he says, and Robb huffs in annoyance as he towers overhead.

“You’re not my enemy, Theon,” Robb insists, and before he can stop himself Theon thinks  _but I could be._  After all, one of these days his father will die, and he’ll return to the Iron Islands to be lord of them, to claim his birthright. The gods (Theon is always forgetting he only worships the one god) only know what will happen then.

He shakes the thought away. That is a long way off, and for now Robb is right, they are not, cannot be enemies. They’re quite the opposite. “It’s just a bruise,” he says. “Would you fuss like this if you left the same sort of mark on Snow?”

And Robb hesitates. Theon pretends not to understand why. Robb wouldn’t fuss, at least not this much – Robb might be more important than his bastard brother, but still, he can’t really threaten him. It’s not like Snow’s…

“I’m sorry, alright?” Robb says, answering a question nobody asked. Gently, he presses his fingers over the purple splotch, and Theon is almost annoyed that it doesn’t hurt when Robb touches it. “Let me make it up to you, okay?” Robb leans in, and whispers in his ear.

Theon pauses, then smirks as he watches Robb slide down to his knees, placing his head between Theon’s thighs. “Oh, I see,” he drawls, obediently spreading his legs wider, not wanting to get in Robb’s way. “Your motives here are entirely selfless, I see?” Because it’s easier to think they aren’t; that Robb simply wants him, pure and simple, and doesn’t feel obliged to apologise for who Theon is.

Robb smiles at that, although Theon has a bit too much experience with fake smiles not to notice that it doesn’t go all the way to his eyes. Robb’s smile is shy and eager, a little guilty – this must be the worst thing the little lordling has ever done, and Theon won’t take that thrill away from him. The reaction might be more justified if Robb would actually let Theon bugger him (maybe someday, he should ask), but a bit of discreet cocksucking, Theon reckons more men than haven’t have indulged in that. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Those fingers are clumsy and quick as they pull at Theon’s laces, and Theon’s cock immediately springs to life at the first touch of Robb’s strong hands, oh so obedient. Robb pulls it out without hesitation now, licking his lips at the sight of it like a two-copper whore, and Theon suspects that just like a two-copper whore, he’s acting to flatter Theon’s ego. He laughs. “Get on with it, Stark.”

“Yes, my lord,” Robb tells him, and Theon’s cock jerks just as his stomach lurches a little. They are both lords, but only one of them needs the reminder. Robb leans down and licks along the length of him, gripping the base with a hand still red and hot from sword-practice, and he swirls his tongue over Theon’s slit. Theon sighs and closes his eyes, throws his head back, tries to let having his cock sucked be having his cock sucked, and nothing more.

Robb hums as he wraps his lips around Theon's length, and Theon's glad he's enjoying it, really, but that bruise on his side pulses and throbs in time with his cock, a stubborn reminder.  _It means nothing_ , he tells himself: a bruise like any other, the sort all boys get when they spar. Irritated, he grabs Robb's hair and pulls him down. “Deeper, Stark,” he grunts, and Robb moans as he obeys, bobbing his head eagerly between Theon's legs, looking up at him with those big blue baby-ish eyes, and when Theon looks back down at him he half-wants to rip the boy's hair out.

It's not fair, he thinks, groaning as he fucks into Robb's mouth harder. He didn't ask for this. He doesn't want any more than for getting off in Robb's mouth to be getting off in Robb's mouth, a nice little favour between friends, just as getting wounded when Robb strikes him is no more than two friends playing at swords. He doesn't want it all to mean something, but of course it always does.

Robb makes a choked noise and it's only then Theon realises how hard he's thrusting down, making Robb gag. Part of him loathes himself for being so rough, like the barbarian these Northerners must all think he is, but another part of him, perhaps a greater part of him, loathes Robb for letting him.

If he were anyone else, Robb would stand up for himself, but to him, never. After all, it's meant to be an  _apology_ , and that means letting Theon do whatever he fucking likes with him, as if that will trick him into thinking he has an ounce of control. If he wanted, Robb wouldn't have to pretend. He could throw his wait about and tell Theon exactly what he is: a hostage, no more, with no right to complain if Robb smashes him to pieces in training. At least he's not dead, right?

And Robb would never act that way, Theon doesn't think he wants him to, but it would be more honest.

Theon groans as he drives his cock the way down Robb's throat and just  _holds_  him there, feeling Robb gasp and spasm underneath, and he looks down to see Robb's hand in his breeches because of fucking course. Theon presses his spare hand back against the bruise. Robb thinks he can make it all up, that if he just whores himself enough then suddenly they'll be equals, and he can enjoy himself while doing it, that Theon won't always remember just how dependent on Robb's pity he really is. A bruise, after all, is not so far from a scar, and what's the distance between a scar and having his head sliced clean off?

His balls tighten as the pain sparks up his spine, and he pulls back just enough to keep Robb from drowning as Theon comes down his throat, letting him swallow it all just like a whore, like he's expecting an extra coin for it.

Robb moans with his eyes closed as he sucks it out of Theon, and Theon sighs and lets him, resigned. He watches as Robb keeps tossing himself off on his knees, and smiles a second when Robb's orgasm overtakes him and he comes in his breeches. He wishes it could be that simple, that he would get off and Robb would get off, and neither of them would feel the need to prove anything. Robb wouldn't be trying to tell Theon he's good enough, and Theon wouldn't be ever more aware that he never will be.

Even while coughing and panting, Robb smiles as he pulls away from Theon's cock, a thin line of spittle connecting them. “I think that should have made up for something,” he says, and Theon laughs, letting Robb get to his feet and kiss him gently, like he always does – gently.

He couldn't tell Robb how much he's made it worse.


End file.
